


QWER

by Luxie



Category: EU LCS - Fandom, League of Legends
Genre: Drunk Casters, EU LCS, LoL RPF, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:58:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxie/pseuds/Luxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So after the 2013 Spring Split I kinda made this off-hand deal with the artist of CasterComix that if he did a piece on Quickshot's uncanny knowledge of Fanfiction I would actually write a piece of LCS Fanfiction. I don't usually venture into RPF and I've taken quite a bit of liberties with their characters, but he should just have his own fanfic...<br/>This is a year old and mentions players and Casters who is no longer in the EU LCS.</p><p>QWER is a wordplay on the keys used in LoL.  Warnings for slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	QWER

"Once is accident, twice is tradition." Trevor insists and Leigh is pretty sure that's not how that saying goes, but he's too drunk to care. Trevor can be very persuasive when... well, always and he had insisted they repeated their LCS Finals party from last year. Just next weekend they'll be casting the Spring Playoffs so the LCS finals aren't really that much of a ending, but no one was about to argue.

Never let it be said that the Riot crew can't party. Even though Trevor had called it the "Spring Fling", which is something Leigh is definitely not going to comment on, especially not in his current state.

He's not the only one who's past the point of tipsy, staggering into the realm of embarrassingly smashed. Joe is trying to convince Krepo to do the Nidalee dance and Jason has taken on the job as bartender, serving beers to minors like a boss. Someone left Svenskeren and Snoopeh in charge of the music and even though Snoopeh is dead set on cramming every dance hit of the '90 into a night long playlist Svenskeren insists that every other track, at least, should be younger than Bjergsen.

Wickd is an uncontrollable mass of bouncy energy, much like the Zac he favours,  and he mingles around between players and Riot employees with a drunken charm that's bordering adorable. Most of the players know each other from former tournaments and sure, it's a professional career as a gamer on the line, but these boys aren't holding grudges once they've left the Summoner's Rift. That doesn't mean it's one huge hipster group hug, though. Gambit happily raises their glasses when ever someone yells "Cheers", but they stay mostly to themselves and it's clear that they're still hurting. The only exception is Alex-ich, who is already bonding with his fellow Allstar represents, sOaz and Yellowpete, the three bouncing out on the dance floor when one of earth's great ballades, "Toxic" starts playing.

"Your beer is empty." Trevor points out loudly as he appears at Leigh's side, pushing the empty bottle aside to replace it with a pink, slushy drink.

"Trust me, I don't need another." Leigh tries, but it was never a discussion he was going to win and when Trevor raises his own umbrella-clad drink Leigh follows suit and sips the syrupy drink down.

"I tried to get Jason to make you a Long Island Ice Tea," Trevor slurs, the South African slipping into his speech at full force. "But he insisted on something pink." He's closer to Leigh's ear than he should be and it's not surprising, because Trevor drunk is handsy and flirty and utterly indifferent to concepts like gender and sexual orientation. Leigh is used to it and even in his current state he is far better equipped to deal with drunk Trevor than an insecure teenage boy would be. Which is the only reason why he plays along. One reason, anyway.

The last mouthful of the drink tastes even sweeter than the rest and he suspects that Jason needs a few lessons in how to use a shaker. "Are you trying to get me drunk, sir?" He asks innocently, sliding the glass, now empty save for umbrella, over in front of Trevor.

"I think you've managed that fine on your own." Trevor counters, raising a pierced eyebrow.

"Gotta keep up with the young folks." He nods towards Krepo who is currently using Wickd as a dancepole while Joe cheers them on. Sometimes it's hard to believe Joe and Trevor are the same age, especially when they've been drinking and Joe regresses back to being a 16 year old dweeb. Jason, on the other hand, is all business all the time. Even drunk he's in complete control, pouring up colourful drinks with precision and magnetic composure.

Leigh can't keep up any more, not really. He's a good ten years older than the rest of them and even though he can still drink the likes of Joe and Jason under the table if need be he knows all too well that he'll be in for a world of pain tomorrow morning if he tried.

It's different with Trevor. Trevor is dangerous, because he's the same if he's had two drinks or ten and you can never really know where he's at, unless you've watched him closely all night. This doesn't just make him dangerous in drinking duels, but also in many other aspects. Because he can crawl up on the bar and stomp to ItaloBrothers like a loon and still have the brains to analyse every little verbal slip you make in your own drunken stupor.

The good thing about Trevor, though, is that he never calls Leigh on his inappropriate gazes or any of the other lapses he makes when he's had one too many and can't quite keep the mask from cracking.

"Why don't I go see if I can't get us some manly beers." Trevor asks casually, breath hot on Leigh's neck, before he disappears into a group of cheerful techies. He returns ten minutes later with a couple of Carlsberg's and he looks so proud of himself that Leigh suspects that he's snuck the beers out of the bar without Jason noticing.

"Don't tell the others, but you're my favourite." Leigh says and Trevor's face splits into another smug smile.

In true Riot tradition the party lasts until they run out of beer. Nyph has been lifted onto the bar by the rest of his team mates and empties the last bottle as the remaining people cheers him on. Wickd and Krepo are practically sitting in each other's lap, one second calling each other names with venomous voices and declaring eternal friendship the next. And Cyanide has fallen asleep on his barstool, slumped sideways against xPeke's shoulder.

"Come on, Taxi's waiting." Trevor says, pulling Leigh to his feet. "Time to get you horizontal, mate."

"Marry me." Leigh says and follows Trevor towards the exit.

Trevor smiles and runs a hand through Leigh's short hair, resting it there as he makes sure Leigh doesn't bump his head as he ducks into the cab. "You're so romantic when you're drunk."

"No really," Leigh deadpans, because he really can't help himself, "Marry me and I'll do the dishes every night."

Trevor chuckles softly and drags Leigh's head down to rest on his shoulder, face buried in the crook of Trevor's neck. "Just relax," Trevor murmurs and Leigh does as he's told, falling asleep and never fully waking up, not until Trevor leads him into their flat and helps him remove shoes and suit.

"If once is accident and twice is tradition," Leigh quotes, even though he's pretty sure that's not how the saying goes. "Then what is three?"

Trevor smiles as he unbuttons his own shirt, slipping out of his pants and into the bed next to Leigh. "I guess they call it a relationship."

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have a second Deman/Quickshot fic in the oven.  
> And at some point I intend to write about xPeke and Araneae's epic love.  
> I mean no offence with this and I hope the people who are unfortunate enough to find themselves in my stories can brush it off and smile about it, like Quickshot did when he retweeted my story way back when.


End file.
